Fine, but if I think you need it, I'm going to. [She's firm on that. His muscles need to rest. He looks so exhausted; it isn't plainly visible, but she is still worried about him. More than just on the surface, more than just a need of rest. She won't break his illusion of independence if he won't break hers. Even if she's about to do it herself.

She makes sure that he falls gently, still keeping a delicate hold on his arm while she slides onto the mattress beside him. Her hold remains as she leans over him and wraps an arm around his side, opposite from where she sits. Hesitantly, she presses her cold cheek against his shoulder blade. The tip of her nose can be felt before her lips ghost over his skin.] I drank too much last night. [Her breath is warm, her voice a whisper.] I thought that you were gone. Then, I thought I may never see you again. That you could come back and not know me.